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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112934">Blessing of the Gods</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuki/pseuds/yuuki'>yuuki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2020 Quarantine AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, OsaKita Quarantine, Pining, Quarantine, Sharing a Bed, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:08:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuki/pseuds/yuuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kita asks Osamu if he can stay with him during the quarantine because he doesn’t want to put his elderly grandmother at risk and he has nowhere else to go. </p><p>Osamu agrees, and then he has to spend the next few months falling in love with Kita Shinsuke.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blessing of the Gods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Osamu blinks at the man sitting across from him. </p><p>When Kita asked if he could come by Osamu’s home earlier that week, Osamu thought nothing of it. He thought it would be another business meeting about the growth speed of rice or the wing beat of storks or something else mundane like that. Something he had to pretend to be interested in because it was essential to his business (also it was Kita), but something he had no knowledge about in reality, nor did he particularly care. </p><p>He really wasn’t expecting Kita to ask to come <em> live </em>with him. </p><p>“Only until this disease passes and it’s safe again,” Kita says. “I don’t go out much anyway, but I don’t want to put Granny in any kind of danger.” </p><p>He’s as stoic and perfect as ever, posture impeccable and hands neatly clasped in his lap. Osamu wonders what he’s thinking. Wonders if Kita <em> wants </em>to stay with Osamu, or if he's just the most convenient choice. </p><p>“I understand if you don’t want to,” he continues when Osamu still doesn’t say anything. Something flickers across his face, and Osamu wishes he knew Kita well enough to know what that emotion was. “I can ask a neighbor if I can stay with them.” </p><p>“Stop that,” Osamu says, and Kita raises an eyebrow at him. It makes Osamu feel smaller than Kita despite being a good three inches taller than him, and he hunches up his shoulders.</p><p>He clears his throat nervously. “Of course you can stay here,” he clarifies. “It’s just… well, I’ve only got one bedroom.” </p><p>Kita’s eyebrows furrow, and it’s almost like he’s disappointed. “I see. Well, like I said, I can ask a neighbor-“ </p><p>“I have a spare futon,” Osamu cuts him off, because now that he’s agreed to let Kita stay he really doesn’t want Kita to go stay with one of his neighbors. He’s met all of Kita’s neighbors; they’re not elderly like his grandmother is, but they’re all old enough to the point where they have daughters around Kita’s age. Osamu’s been to visit them once, and almost the entire time they were trying to set Kita up with someone. Osamu doesn’t <em> care </em>if Kita manages to fall in love with one of those daughters, but Kita often expresses his dislike of it. </p><p>Having Kita stay with him- well, it’s just in Kita’s best interest, really. </p><p>Kita’s eyes go wide, surprised at having been interrupted. If this was high school, Osamu would’ve been on his knees begging for forgiveness. </p><p>“It was Atsumu’s,” he says, as if that reason is good enough to warrant an interruption. “For when he visited. You can use it, or you can sleep on the couch…” </p><p>Kita stands up, and Osamu watches him. Is he leaving? Is the idea of sleeping on Atsumu’s futon really that overwhelming? </p><p>Osamu slaps his forehead. Of <em> course </em>it would be overwhelming. Atsumu was Kita’s ex, after all. He should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. </p><p>Before Osamu could apologize, though, Kita was already bowing to Osamu. It makes Osamu <em> squeak </em>like a fucking idiot, and he moves the hand on his forehead to his mouth. </p><p>“Thank you for your hospitality,” Kita says. “I’ll repay you somehow.” </p><p>“Don’t do that!” Osamu says. Kita glances at him from under his eyelashes, still bowing. “Don’t bow to me! That’s strange!” </p><p>Kita straightens up with a smile, and Osamu stares at him. “Thank you, Osamu-kun,” he says. “I appreciate this.” </p><p>“Hey, any time,” Osamu tells him, still shell-shocked over the fact that Kita Shinsuke- <em> the </em>Kita Shinsuke- bowed to him. “For you, any time.” </p><p>Fuck. Now it sounds like he’s in love with Kita Shinsuke. </p><p>Kita’s smile grows a little wider when he notices Osamu wince at his own words. He walks Kita to his door, bowing to him on his way out. Kita looks like he wants to say something about that, but instead he just promises to keep in contact about when he’ll move in. </p><p>Osamu closes his door and slides his back against it until he’s sitting on his floor and staring at the ceiling. </p><p>Quarantine with Kita Shinsuke. </p><p>Well, it shouldn’t be awful, at least. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Osamu chews on his nails as he watches Kita put away his things. He officially ‘moved in’ earlier that morning, after Osamu had spent a week furiously deep cleaning his apartment and rearranging his room to make space for Kita. </p><p>“You don’t have to just stand there,” Kita says as he folds his clothes and puts them away. Osamu had shoved all the clothes in the lower drawers of his dresser into the top ones earlier that week to allow Kita somewhere to put his belongings. </p><p>He thinks of Atsumu, and how Atsumu once fixated on Kita’s shoes by their family home’s front door. He wonders how Atsumu would feel if he saw Kita putting his clothes into the dresser he and Osamu shared as children. </p><p>Osamu forces himself to stop that train of thought, because Atsumu is no longer in love with Kita. </p><p>Osamu watches Kita sit criss-cross on the floor as he folds his clothes, and he wonders if this is how Atsumu felt instead. </p><p>“I know,” Osamu says, throat and mouth dry. “I just don’t want to leave you alone.” </p><p>Kita chuckles under his breath. In high school he never laughed at anything Osamu ever did or said, and the few times he ever heard Kita laugh it was because of Aran or his grandma or Atsumu. “Worried I’ll break something?” </p><p>“No,” Osamu says, sitting on the edge of his bed. He rubs his palms against his jeans. He’s not an anxious person, but for some reason Kita has always been able to make Osamu second guess everything he does. “Worried you’ll find and steal my secret recipe.” </p><p>Kita actually laughs this time, and it makes Osamu think of bells. “We’re partners, aren’t we? I wouldn’t steal your secret recipe.” </p><p>Osamu’s lips twitch. “That’s why I’m worried,” he says. “You’ll find it and decide you don’t want me anymore.” </p><p>Kita stands up from the floor, his knees popping. He tilts his head at Osamu, expression unreadable. “I don’t think I could do that,” he says. Osamu blushes and looks at his feet, pulling at his fingers while he tries to find something to say. Before he can, though, Kita is already talking again. “Would you care for some dinner, Osamu-kun?” </p><p>Osamu jerks forward and stands up, his cheeks heating up once more over the fact that he forgot to offer Kita anything to eat throughout the day. </p><p>One time Atsumu called him the stupider twin. It turns out Atsumu was right. </p><p>“I’ll cook,” he mumbles. “You just settle in.” </p><p>“Let me help,” Kita says. </p><p>Osamu shakes his head. “I’d feel bad having you do chores the first day you’re here.”</p><p>“I always help at home, so I’d feel more comfortable doing something here,” Kita explains. </p><p>“Okay,” Osamu reluctantly agrees. They move to the kitchen, and Osamu lets Kita handle the rice as he prepares the vegetables and seasonings. They work in silence, only speaking to say <em> excuse me </em> or <em> I’m sorry </em>when they accidentally bump into each other. </p><p>It’s awkward. That’s the only way to describe it. Osamu was never that close to Kita in high school despite Kita spending a lot of his time after graduation at his house, and even after they decided to open up the shop together they hardly ever had a casual conversation. </p><p>Oftentimes, Osamu worried that he reminded Kita too much of Atsumu. All he knows about their break up is that Atsumu ended it when he moved to Osaka, saying he didn’t want to get bored. Osamu knew that was just a lie to cover up the real reason, because no one could ever get bored of Kita. </p><p>Now Atsumu is happily dating Sakusa while Kita is preparing dinner in Osamu’s kitchen, and Kita keeps sending Osamu these longing glances that he’s choosing to ignore. </p><p>After the food is done, they sit across the table from each other in silence. Osamu slaps his hands together to pray when he sees Kita do it, muttering <em> thanks for the food </em>under his breath. </p><p>“It’s good,” Kita says after a few bites. </p><p>Osamu blushes. He always does whenever Kita specifically compliments him. “It’s your rice,” he says. </p><p>It’s quiet again. Osamu wishes that one of them was a little louder. </p><p>After they finish eating they wash their dishes in <em> silence, </em>and Osamu has never hated the quiet so much in his life. It was the number one thing he loved when he moved out to live alone, but when there’s another person in his house, it feels like the walls should be encasing endless chatter. </p><p>They’re not. The walls stand barren and hushed, no conversations hidden beneath the plaster. </p><p>They go back to his bedroom where he helps Kita set up the spare futon, handing him extra pillows on top of a folded blanket. </p><p>“Thank you,” Kita says as they settle down to sleep. It makes Osamu uncomfortable, to hear Kita thank him so much for ordinary reasons. </p><p>“I already told ya that there’s no need to thank me all the time,” Osamu sleepily mumbles as he snuggles into his sheets. “Y’know, if you stay here long enough, we ought to get ya a proper bed.” </p><p>Kita is quiet. Osamu rolls over on his bed to look at him, only to find Kita grinning at the ceiling with an arm over his eyes. It feels like Osamu has just walked in on something private, so he rolls back over. </p><p>“This is good enough for me,” Kita finally says. </p><p>Osamu stares up at his ceiling, not saying anything in return. He hears Kita’s breathing slow and become more even, and he turns to glance at him one last time. </p><p>This is good enough for him too, he thinks, but Osamu wonders how much longer it’ll be before his appetite becomes insatiable. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>They’ve established a routine two weeks in. Osamu wakes up and looks over the side of his bed to see Kita still snoozing soundly, and he carefully gets out of bed with the softest movements to avoid waking Kita up. </p><p>Osamu wonders why he always wakes up before Kita does since Kita works on a farm, but he doesn’t question it too much because he enjoys seeing the way Kita’s hair curls over his eyebrows and ears. </p><p>Osamu walks into the kitchen. He’ll make breakfast and then Kita will join him with a tired yawn thirty minutes later. </p><p>“Good morning,” Kita says. Osamu nods at him over his shoulder. “Smells good.” </p><p>“It’s crepes,” Osamu informs him. He pulls fruit out of his fridge, holding up two containers of berries. “Which would you like?” </p><p>“Strawberries, please,” Kita says. He goes and sits on the couch, pulling a small box containing sewing supplies into his lap. At first Kita was hesitant and didn’t do anything without asking Osamu first, but he’s seemed to settle in. </p><p>Osamu watches him. It feels strange to see another person so comfortable in his home. Not strange in a bad way, but in a way that has Osamu’s brain itching. </p><p>Kita wordlessly gets up when Osamu starts to reach for a plate on the cabinet. He grabs one and hands it to Osamu before setting the small dining table they share. </p><p>They sit across from each other and eat after a short prayer and thanks for the food. </p><p>“I used to grow strawberries at home,” Kita says. “You should get some for your house.”</p><p>Osamu hums, his heart twisting. No matter how well Kita has settled into his home, he still refers to it as <em> Osamu’s house. </em> Osamu doesn’t expect Kita to think of this place as his home since it’s not, but he likes to entertain his daydreams of Kita saying it’s <em> home.  </em></p><p>Osamu shoves his crepe into his mouth, because Kita is his business partner and his friend and his brother’s ex, and he’s not allowed to think of him like that. He <em> doesn’t </em>think of him like that. Whatever he feels for Kita is just attraction (and who wouldn’t be attracted to Kita, really) and if he fantasizes about touching Kita, it’s because he’s so touch starved and lonely. Nothing more. </p><p>“I’ll think about it,” Osamu says, not wanting to leave Kita hanging. “I’m not very good at growing plants.” </p><p>Kita smiles. “I’ll help you,” he says, and it feels like a promise. Like he’s going to be staying with Osamu for a while longer- or like he’s going to come back after he leaves. </p><p>Osamu purses his lips and stands up, grabbing their plates. Kita stops him. </p><p>“I’ll clean up,” he says. “Since you always cook breakfast.” </p><p>Osamu wants to argue. Wants to insist that Kita is his guest even though he’s so much more now, wants to tell Kita to go sit down and finish his little sewing project. </p><p>He knows it’s futile. He just thanks Kita and walks into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. </p><p>He pauses in the doorway and turns around to look at Kita, who is humming happily under his breath as he does the dishes. He glances at the front door where he sees his impossibly straight shoes next to Kita’s impossibly straight shoes, and he looks at the coat rack where he sees Kita’s jacket hanging with his. He looks into the bathroom where he sees Kita’s toothbrush next to his.</p><p>And it all falls into place then. How perfectly Kita fits in his home, how he looks like he <em> belongs </em>there. How it feels like the thing that Osamu’s been missing all this time is him. </p><p>And Osamu wonders how he could be anything other than in love with Kita Shinsuke.  </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It’s been a month. </p><p>Osamu doesn’t know when this quarantine will end, but he’s already tired of it. </p><p>He’s tired of waking up every morning and seeing Kita sleeping peacefully on the floor. He’s tired of seeing the way the golden hour sunlight hits Kita’s hair and skin when he sits on the couch in front of the window. He’s tired of seeing Kita’s toothbrush sit next to his own on the bathroom counter. </p><p>He’s tired of feeling fluttering birds in his stomach and throat every time Kita so much as looks at him. </p><p>It’s not Kita himself that makes it irritating. Kita has been nothing short of a saint, helping Osamu out wherever he can. It’s mostly Osamu’s feelings for Kita that get on his nerves. </p><p>It’s just- okay, well, maybe it’s also a little bit of Kita. He’s quiet and has got this intense stare that always makes Osamu feel like he’s doing something wrong <em> in his own house, </em>and sometimes Osamu will catch Kita meticulously straightening the clothes in his closet or the silverware in the drawers. It feels like there’s suddenly all this pressure on Osamu to impress him, but he knows that nothing he can do will impress Kita since Kita already saw the way Osamu lived as a teenager. </p><p>Kita also has a terrible habit of never locking the door or knocking on a door and then entering without waiting for an answer. It’s led to some terribly awkward situations. Osamu is guilty of this too, he’ll admit, but he’s lived alone for years now so it’s not his fault. </p><p>“Sorry,” Kita had said the first two times, “Grandmother is hard of hearing, so I have to open the doors to ensure she gets the message.”</p><p>When Osamu did it and accidentally walked in on Kita in the middle of changing in his bedroom, he had to apologize profusely with a face that has never been so red. “Sorry,” he had said, “I’m still not used to another person being in my home.”</p><p>Kita had simply nodded. Over the past month, Osamu has seen Kita’s naked chest and thighs more times than should be allowed. </p><p>Kita seems to be trying to work on it, at least, which is about as much breathing room as Osamu is allowed. </p><p>Osamu sighs and carefully draws the razor down his face. He hates shaving and always puts it off until the last moment, when he’s all ugly and scraggly looking. He’s never been able to pull off the stubble look. He doesn’t know many men who can. </p><p>There’s a knock on the bathroom door. Osamu’s eyes snap towards it, his hands frantically reaching for the towel that he let pool on the floor. </p><p>“Kita-san!” he shrieks, covering up his bare ass with the towel. He tucks it around his waist so he can flap his hands at Kita, who looks very unimpressed with the whole ordeal. </p><p>“Oops,” Kita says, though it doesn’t seem genuine whatsoever. It seems like Kita knew what he was doing and purposefully stormed into the bathroom. </p><p>“Didn’t we discuss this already?!” Osamu says. “If you can’t find me anywhere else in the house, don’t enter the bathroom!” </p><p>“I know,” Kita says. “But you never lock the door. And why are you being so dramatic? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” </p><p>He has a point. When they played on the same team as each other everyone saw each other naked their fair share of times, and Osamu was no exception. </p><p>Except… well, back then Osamu had youth and volleyball to keep him skinny and in shape. Back then, Osamu was muscle and bone and hard edges. </p><p>He’s different now. Now, he’s got a bit of a squishy tummy and a thicker waist. His body isn’t as toned as it used to be. He doesn’t have abs or bulging biceps. His hip bones no longer jut out. The Osamu Miya that Kita Shinsuke once knew no longer exists. </p><p>This train of thought makes Osamu shrink in on himself, and he hastily grabs another towel to cover up his torso. He’s not insecure about his body since he’s still fit, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Kita who is surely still used to seeing Atsumu’s very athletic body or his own incredibly toned body. </p><p>It’s strange just how lean Kita is, but Osamu supposes that it’s all from hard work in the rice fields.</p><p>Kita sighs and closes the door behind him so they’re both trapped in the bathroom. “I’m sorry,” he says, and this time it sounds like he means it. “I just wanted to let you know that lunch is ready.”</p><p>Osamu runs a hand through his wet hair. “You made lunch?” </p><p>“Yes,” Kita says. His hair has gotten so long that the tips of it brush his cheekbones and obscure his eyes, but he doesn’t ever attempt to push the hanging strands back. “You always cook, so I wanted to cook for you this time.” </p><p>His words make Osamu’s heart do flips. “Oh,” he says. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a little bit. I just have to finish shaving.”</p><p>Kita nods and steps closer to Osamu. He carefully tilts Osamu’s face up by his chin with a soft hum, oblivious to the way Osamu’s suddenly gotten ten degrees hotter and four shades redder. “You missed a spot,” he says. “Quite a few, actually.” </p><p>“Oh,” Osamu breathily whispers, because when Kita Shinsuke is standing so close and touching you like this, there are really no other words to be said. </p><p>Kita dispenses shaving cream onto his hand before carefully rubbing it across Osamu’s jaw, his thumbs smoothing gentle circles into Osamu’s skin. </p><p>At this point, Osamu is sure that his soul has straight up left his body. </p><p><em> No one </em> has ever touched Osamu this gently before, not even his own mother. Not even <em> Suna, </em>who, up until Kita, had the softest hands Osamu had ever felt. </p><p>It makes Osamu’s heart beat like there’s an entire orchestra in his chest, and there’s this swirling <em> something </em>inside his tummy. If he had even a tiny bit less restraint, he would’ve surged forward to crash his lips against Kita’s. He would’ve grabbed Kita by his waist and dragged him into his lap, would’ve carried him to the bed and kissed him until he was panting and dazed. </p><p>The real life Kita picks up Osamu’s razor in one hand and holds Osamu’s face with the other. He pivots Osamu’s head this way and that so he can get all the spots Osamu missed, and it’s very <em> relaxing. </em>Osamu would be incredibly nervous if anyone else held a razor near his face, but Kita… well, Osamu has nothing but endless faith in Kita. </p><p>They’re quiet together again, but this time the air between them isn’t tense and awkward. It’s more comfortable now. Osamu is content to just sit naked on the edge of the bathtub with only a towel to cover himself up, enjoying Kita’s company. </p><p>Kita rummages through the cupboards with one hand, the other still touching Osamu. He can feel Kita’s thumb moving back and forth across his jaw, and it’s almost like Kita isn’t aware he’s doing it. </p><p>He hears the sound of something being set on the counter and then the lid of something being opened, and then the scent of Osamu’s aftershave fills the bathroom. </p><p>Kita applies that with soft fingers too, and Osamu wants to melt into his hands. </p><p>“All done,” Kita quietly hums. He runs the pads of his thumbs over Osamu’s eyebrows, and Osamu opens his eyes. Kita’s face is so close to him, his eyes stuck on Osamu’s forehead. He leans imperceptibly closer, and it almost seems like he’s going to kiss Osamu’s forehead. </p><p>The air between them certainly suggests that now would be a perfect time for a kiss, and Osamu waits with bated breath. </p><p>Then Kita’s eyes flick down and meet Osamu’s, and he backs away with the lowest blush on his cheeks. </p><p>“Thank you,” Osamu tells him, resisting the urge to reach for Kita’s bangs and push them out of his eyes. Kita simply nods then points at his clothes. </p><p>“Make yourself decent,” he says. He walks out of the bathroom, locking the door behind him. </p><p>Osamu stares at the door and doesn’t move, his heart beating too fast under his skin. His chest is hot and flushed, and the hair on his arms is standing up. </p><p>He finally stands up and begins to dress himself. He towel dries his hair before putting his cap back on, and only then does he examine his face in the mirror. </p><p>Kita did a better job of shaving than he ever could. </p><p>He joins Kita at the table, who glances at Osamu’s face with an appreciative hum. Osamu joins him in prayer and mutters <em> thanks for the food.  </em></p><p>It’s only when they begin eating that Osamu notices the fact that they’re sitting next to each other instead of across from each other.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Things get easier between them after that. The silence filling their home is no longer awkward and the cause of two people who aren’t close, but is now born from two people who just like to be near each other. </p><p>And Osamu really likes to be near Kita. Sure, it was annoying not having his room to himself at first and even more annoying to share it with the man he wants to kiss until he’s red, but now he can’t remember what it was like to sleep alone. </p><p>When he first moved out, he had a lot of trouble sleeping because he was so used to another living person being in the same room as him. He got used to being alone, though, and he really hopes that having Kita around isn’t going to disrupt that. Kita helps settle him- which would be a <em> good </em>thing if he didn’t have to leave. </p><p>Osamu flips the page of his book. It’s an American one that Kita recommended. His English isn’t good enough to fully comprehend the book, but he’s having fun just trying (he’s lying. It’s stressful and it’s giving him a headache, but Kita enjoys it, so he’s trying). On the other couch, Kita is diligently working on his sewing project. </p><p>Osamu marks his page and puts the book away. “Kita-san,” he says. Kita looks up from his project. “Do you miss your grandmother?” </p><p>Kita looks surprised. “I do,” he says, slowly, like he’s testing out the temperature of the words. “I call her everyday, though. She’s been keeping busy by doing household renovations. Says that when I go back home, my room will be a different color.”</p><p>The thought of Kita’s tiny little grandmother renovating their old home makes Osamu laugh. “Where does she get all that energy?” </p><p>Kita sighs dramatically. “I ask her that all the time.” </p><p>Osamu gives Kita a little smile before he stands up. “I’m going to bed,” he says, looking expectantly at Kita. “You’re welcome to stay up, though.” </p><p>He says it every single night when he announces that he’s going to bed. Kita never does, instead following Osamu into their bedroom (and now Osamu has begun to think of it as <em> their </em> bedroom and not <em> his </em>bedroom). Osamu would feel weird if Kita didn’t follow him to bed one day. </p><p>Kita puts away his sewing supplies wordlessly. Osamu waits for him. Kita stands up with a wince, rubbing at the base of his spine. </p><p>“Are you okay, Kita-san?” Osamu asks. “Is your back giving you trouble already? You’re not that old, y’know.” </p><p>Kita scowls at Osamu. “It’s the futon,” he says. Then his eyes go wide, his mouth falling open. “Not that I’m complaining,” he amends. “It’s just… painful to sleep on the floor for a month and a half.” </p><p>Osamu jolts. He didn’t realize that sleeping on that old futon for so long would be uncomfortable. It never occurred to him since Kita never complained about it. Atsumu always did complain every time he visited, but Osamu assumed that he was just being dramatic. </p><p>“I see,” Osamu says. “Y’know… my bed is big enough for two people.” </p><p>Kita stares at him with wide eyes, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. “Osamu?” </p><p>Osamu shrugs and whips around so Kita won’t see his burning face. “Or you can sleep on the couch,” he says. “I’ll order a new futon for you.” </p><p>“Are you sure you want me to sleep with you?” Kita asks. </p><p>Osamu slaps his hands over his cheeks, his skin hot to the touch. He’s glad that his back is to Kita, because he really doesn’t want Kita to see the look he has on his face right now. “S’fine,” he says, not wanting to express just how much he wants Kita to sleep with him. </p><p>“Okay,” Kita murmurs. He follows Osamu to the bathroom, who holds the door open for him so they can brush their teeth together. One would expect Kita to have endless boundaries, but he was really like a cat. </p><p>When Osamu was younger, he had a cat named Bonbon. She mostly kept to herself and was content to simply exist near Osamu. She’d leave him be, except for when he went into the bathroom. Then she’d meow loudly at the door until he let her in. She was only ever satisfied when she was in the bathroom with Osamu. </p><p>Kita was very much like Bonbon. Almost eerily so, because even their hair colors were similar. </p><p>Their elbows knock together as they scrub their mouths and wash their faces, and Kita hands Osamu a little hand towel to dry off his face. Osamu quietly thanks him before doing the same for him, and then comes the awkward part. </p><p>“You can choose which side of the bed you want,” Osamu says. He takes off his clothes and begins to change, and Kita watches him for a split second before turning to the bed with a nod. At this point they’ve changed in front of each other so many times that Osamu no longer thinks twice about it. </p><p>“I’d like the side closest to the wall, if that’s alright,” Kita says, changing into his own pajamas. </p><p>Osamu hums and grabs a bottle from his side of the dresser. “Okay,” he says, “lay on your belly.” </p><p>Kita frowns. “Why?” </p><p>“Just trust me.” </p><p>Kita does as Osamu instructs, and then Osamu settles on top of Kita’s thighs who lets out a grunt at his weight.</p><p>“Is this okay?” Osamu asks. If he moved three inches higher, he’d be sitting directly on top of Kita’s ass. </p><p>It’s an overwhelming thing to think about. </p><p>“...Yes,” Kita says. “But why are you sitting on me?” </p><p>Osamu rolls the hem of Kita’s shirt between his fingers. “You’ll see,” he says. “I’m going to take your shirt off. Is that alright?” </p><p>Kita turns his head to look at Osamu, his expression unreadable. “Yes,” he whispers it like it’s a secret, so quiet Osamu has to strain his ears to hear it.  </p><p>But it’s all the permission he needs, so he begins to slide Kita’s shirt up his torso with fingers that barely graze his skin. Kita shivers under his touch, and Osamu relishes in the way he sees Kita’s skin begin to crawl with goosebumps. </p><p>The air in the room has become thick and charged with <em> something </em>, courtesy of the way Kita looked at him. It makes Osamu desperate to get Kita’s shirt off, and he hopes he’s not just imagining whatever this is between them. </p><p>Kita lifts his torso and slides his arms out of the holes as Osamu holds his shirt for him, finally slipping the entire thing over his head. He folds it and sets it on his pillow before grabbing the bottle and pouring the tiniest bit of oil onto his hands. He waits for it to warm up in his palms before rubbing his hands together, finally pressing his palms into the base of Kita’s spine. </p><p>Kita lets out this <em> gasp </em> that has Osamu frozen in place, his breath hitching and his mind melting. He plays the noise over and over again in his head, like it’s a broken record stuck on a loop. He has to take a few deep breaths and think of something extremely unappealing, because he <em> really </em>doesn’t want to get hard when he’s sitting on Kita’s thighs. </p><p>The embarrassment and humiliation of that would be enough to put Osamu in the grave.</p><p>“Kita-san,” he murmurs. <em> The things you do to me.  </em></p><p>He wants to say it. It’s on the tip of his tongue. </p><p>“Keep going,” Kita says, and it would’ve been an order if Kita didn’t sound so pleading. </p><p>Osamu doesn’t need to be told twice. He gently works the knots out of Kita’s muscles with experienced fingers, Kita shuddering whenever Osamu presses on a particularly sore spot. He goes from the base of Kita’s spine all the way up to his shoulders. Kita makes the quietest noises under Osamu’s hands, his breathing stuttering every couple of inhales. </p><p>“You okay?” Osamu asks. </p><p>“Yes,” Kita says, and Osamu hums i’m response. “You’re good at this.”</p><p>He pushes his fingers in between the vertebrae of Kita’s spine and drags his fingernails over Kita’s skin until Kita is basically putty under his hands. “I used to do it for Suna,” he confesses with a dry mouth. Now is probably not the time to bring up his ex, but Osamu was never the smoothest person around and he could never take a hint. </p><p>It’s the truth, anyway. When he and Suna dated, Osamu would give him massages all the time. He likes to think that he’s gotten better at massages since opening up his own onigiri shop, since he’s constantly pressing rice into triangles at work. </p><p>Kita doesn’t ask about Suna. Osamu is thankful for that, because he doesn’t want to think about Suna right now- not when he’s straddling Kita and has got him reacting to every single one of his touches. </p><p>Osamu slides his hands lower until they come to the waistband of Kita’s sweats. Kita has these dimples in the base of his back, and Osamu wants to put his mouth on them. </p><p>He settles for pressing his thumbs to them instead. Kita twitches under him. </p><p>Osamu could stay here forever, probably. Running his hands over Kita’s skin, feeling the way he’s hot like cinders and red to match. The way his skin is smooth and how he blushes in blotches over his shoulders. </p><p>He would if he could, but after a while his fingers start to get sore and his eyelids are droopy. At this point, Kita is positively liquid. </p><p>Osamu stares down at Kita. It seems like he’s fallen asleep. His breathing is slow and even, and he no longer squirms at the slightest touch. </p><p>Osamu has the urge to press a kiss to the first vertebrae of Kita’s spine, right at the base of his neck. </p><p>He does before his overthinking mind can talk him out of it. Kita is warm and soft under his lips. </p><p>Osamu dries off his hands and carefully swings his body off of Kita’s. He peels back the covers of his bed and crawls under with a content sigh. </p><p> </p><p>He glances at Kita, only to find him staring back at him. </p><p>Alarm bells ring in Osamu’s head, but he’s too tired to be embarrassed. </p><p>“Hi,” he whispers. He grabs the covers and lifts them up, inviting Kita to join Osamu under them. </p><p>Kita gives him a sleepy smile and wiggles under the covers. “Hi,” he says, and he grabs Osamu’s hands and gently massages his fingers and palms. “Thank you.” </p><p>Osamu sighs contentedly and closes his eyes. “Thank you,” he repeats. </p><p>Osamu doesn’t know what he’s thanking him for. For staying with him, perhaps? For allowing him to touch him? For allowing him to get so close? </p><p>He doesn’t know, but he falls asleep with his hands in Kita’s all the same. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>When Osamu wakes up the next morning, he instinctively looks for Kita on Atsumu’s futon. </p><p>He’s not there, and it’s only then that the firm presence pressed against Osamu’s back registers in his brain. </p><p>Kita is laying with an arm around Osamu’s waist and his leg curling over Osamu’s thigh, clinging to him like a koala. </p><p>It’s ridiculously fucking cute. It makes Osamu want to cry. </p><p>He extracts himself from Kita’s grasp as carefully as he can, replacing his body with his pillow so Kita still has something to cling to. </p><p>He walks into the kitchen and begins to prepare breakfast. He uses one hand to make the eggs and the other to dial Atsumu. </p><p>He picks up on the third ring.</p><p>“Why the fuck are ya calling me so damn early?” Atsumu asks as soon as he answers the phone. Osamu doesn’t know why he’s complaining, because it sounds like Atsumu has been awake for hours.</p><p>He probably has. </p><p>Osamu switches his phone to his other ear. “I’m in love with Kita.” </p><p>Atsumu is dreadfully silent, and all Osamu can hear is the sound of his heart in his ears. His biggest concern about falling in love with Kita was that it had the potential to ruin his and Atsumu’s relationship, and Osamu would never do anything that could jeopardize that bond. </p><p>“I know, Samu,” Atsumu finally says. “I’ve known for a long time.” </p><p>“How?” Osamu asks, because, really, <em> how? </em>How can Atsumu know that Osamu is in love with Kita when Osamu himself didn’t even know? </p><p>“Have ya told Kita-san yet?” </p><p>Osamu winces. It feels weird to hear Atsumu call Kita by his last name with the honorific instead of the nickname he gave him years ago. “No, I haven't.” </p><p>“Okay,” Atsumu says. “Do you remember when you and Suna broke up, and you found out he was dating Sakusa’s cousin not that long after?” </p><p>Osamu remembers. Of <em> course </em>he remembers. He remembers watching the EJP Raijin game on TV at the shop with Kita, Sakusa, and Atsumu. </p><p>He remembers the way his heart glowed with pride at Suna’s success and the way it shattered when he saw Suna kiss his libero. </p><p>“I do,” Osamu says. It’s been a while since he and Suna broke up. He doesn’t think of the way Suna told him that he could no longer keep up with him when Suna broke up with him anymore. </p><p>“You immediately turned to look at Kita after they kissed,” Atsumu says, “and you smiled at him. Yer not very slick, y’know.” </p><p>Osamu blushes. He doesn’t remember that part as clearly. “You’re not mad?” </p><p>“How could I be mad? You and Kita always made more sense than me and Kita, anyway.” </p><p>“...Thank you, Tsumu.”</p><p>Atsumu makes ridiculous noises on the other end of the phone. Osamu can hear Sakusa yelling at him in the background. “Do yourself a favor,” he says, “and ask Kita why I broke up with him.” </p><p>Before Osamu can reply, Atsumu has already hung up. </p><p>Osamu frowns at his phone. What would Atsumu breaking up with Kita have to do with anything? Should Osamu even ask? Their break up was a while ago, but Osamu knows that Kita was hurt over it for a while even if he pretended not to be. He could see it in the way Kita’s smiles got tighter and faker when he saw Atsumu and Sakusa together. </p><p>He doesn’t want to make Kita upset. Atsumu is just a fool. </p><p>“Good morning,” Kita says behind Osamu. He turns around to greet him, the <em> good morning </em>dying on his lips. </p><p>Kita is standing there wearing Osamu’s Onigiri Miya hoodie. Osamu can tell it’s his, because he’s larger than Kita and so his hoodie hands down to Kita’s mid thighs and the sleeves envelop his hands. He’s also wearing Osamu’s cap, and his messy bedhead hair sticks up everywhere even with the cap smoothing it down. </p><p>It <em> really </em>shouldn’t be as endearing as it is, and it makes Osamu drop the spatula. </p><p>“Shin- Kita-san,” he says, correcting himself last minute. “You… you’re wearing my clothes.” </p><p>Kita hums and walks up to Osamu. He takes off the cap and stands on his tiptoes to put it on Osamu’s head, his cold hands coming to rest on the back of Osamu’s warm neck. Osamu can smell the food burning, but that is insignificant when Kita is standing so close to him. </p><p>“You forgot your hat,” Kita says.</p><p>Osamu swallows. He can feel Kita’s eyes on his Adam’s apple. “My bad.” </p><p>“You should forget it more often,” Kita says. His thumbs are gently passing through the hair on the back of Osamu’s head, and it sends shivers down his spine. “I like your hair.” </p><p>If Kita kept talking to him in that tone of voice, Osamu would burn the world down for him if he asked. </p><p>Osamu takes off the cap and puts it back on Kita, who gives him a quizzical look. “It looks good on you,” he sheepishly mumbles, and Kita grins so widely at him that it has him scrunching up his eyes. </p><p>“Let me help,” Kita says, and Osamu doesn’t object. </p><p>Kita somehow manages to salvage the burning food, and they move fluidly around each other in the kitchen. He hands Osamu spices and utensils without even having to ask, and Osamu moves out of the way for him before Kita even begins to move. </p><p>It’s a huge difference from the way they were nearly two months ago. </p><p>When Kita sets the table, he sets his spot next to Osamu’s. They pray and say thanks for the food, giving each other thumbs up in lieu of verbal praise. </p><p>“Have you ordered a new futon yet?” Kita asks. </p><p>Osamu’s heart falls into his belly. “Not yet,” he says, keeping his eyes on his plate. He pulls out his phone. “I’ll do it now.” </p><p>Kita places his hand on top of Osamu’s phone. “Don’t,” he says. Osamu looks up at him, but Kita is staring firmly down at his lap with the slightest of rosy cheeks. Osamu looks at his ears, which are burning red. </p><p>Kita Shinsuke blushes with his ears. That’s cute. </p><p>“Kita-san?” </p><p>“I like sleeping with you, if you’ll continue to let me stay,” Kita quietly explains. “And you’ll be saving money.” </p><p>Osamu smiles and slides his phone out from under Kita’s hand and back into his pocket. “You can stay as long as you want,” he says. </p><p>Kita smiles at him. “By the way,” he says, “it’s okay if you want to call me Shinsuke.”</p><p>All Osamu can do is simply nod, his tongue unable to form any words. </p><p>“Okay, Shinsuke.” </p><p>He whispers it like it’s a prayer. </p><p>The way Shinsuke smiles at him makes him feel like he’s just received the blessing of the gods. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Life continues like normal. </p><p>He and Shinsuke move together like they were always meant to be. They don’t have to speak to complete their morning routines, and Osamu has Shinsuke’s rituals memorized. </p><p>Osamu wakes up with Shinsuke curled around him. He lays there for half an hour to savor the feeling of Shinsuke’s body heat, and then he gets up and he cooks breakfast. Then, he showers and brushes his teeth and does whatever he feels like doing. </p><p>Shinsuke wakes up alone with the scent of breakfast filling their apartment. He lays there and absorbs the remnants of Osamu’s warmth, and then he gets up and makes the bed. He washes the dishes after breakfast. He showers and brushes his teeth. </p><p>They fit together like puzzle pieces, and Osamu is incredibly glad that he never got to see how soft Shinsuke could be in high school because being in love with the same man as your brother would’ve been hell. </p><p>“You need a haircut,” Osamu tells Shinsuke. </p><p>“And you need to go to the store,” Shinsuke says. “We’re out of milk, and I lost my thimble.” </p><p>Osamu groans. They’ve hardly left the house in three and a half months except to go to the store in turns, and this time it’s Osamu’s turn. </p><p>“You go,” Osamu says. “I’ve forgotten how to walk.” </p><p>Shinsuke walks over and pinches the skin on Osamu’s hips. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he says. “I made you a list.” </p><p>Osamu sticks his tongue out at him. He gets up and puts on presentable clothes to go outside, waiting for Shinsuke to come dismiss him at the door. </p><p>“Here,” Shinsuke says. He grabs Osamu’s hands and puts the list in one and a folded piece of black cloth in the other. Osamu frowns at him, pocketing the list so he can examine the fabric. </p><p>It’s a mask. The Onigiri Miya logo is embroidered on the side of it. </p><p>“You made this?” Osamu asks, because the mask seems very professionally done. There’s not a single uneven stitch, and even the embroidery is flawless. Maybe Osamu is so whipped for Shinsuke that he’s impressed with the slightest bit of skill, but he also knows how hard sewing is. He used to stitch his little sister’s stuffed animals back up after Atsumu ripped them. </p><p>Not to mention the fact that Shinsuke didn’t even have a sewing machine… </p><p>“I did,” Shinsuke says. Osamu can’t remember ever seeing Shinsuke nervous, and the way he’s acting right now is probably the closest he’ll ever get to it. </p><p>“Thank you,” Osamu says. He wants to do more to express his gratitude, his fingers twitching by his sides. </p><p>He finally gives in to the urge to push Shinsuke’s hair out of his eyes. Osamu had almost forgotten how brown they are. He used to think of them as dull, but that was before he saw the light of the sun hit them at the perfect angle and make them shine like amber. </p><p>“I’ll be back soon!” Osamu says, and then he’s running out of his apartment. He gathers all the things on the list Shinsuke gave him, throwing in extra thimbles and needles into the cart. He also grabs a pair of hair cutting scissors. </p><p>He goes back to the apartment when he’s done. Shinsuke is sitting on the couch with a book, and he puts it away and helps Osamu put away the groceries and other items. </p><p>Shinsuke holds up the scissors. “You’re not thinking of cutting your own hair, are you?”</p><p>Osamu smiles at him. “No! You’re gonna cut my hair for me, and then I’ll cut yours.” </p><p>Shinsuke frowns. “No.” </p><p>“Aw, c’mon, Shin-san!” Osamu whines. He follows Shinsuke into the bathroom and watches him put away the cleaning supplies. “Ain’t you bothered by your hair in your eyes all the time?” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Don’t lie to me,” Osamu says. He sits on the edge of the bathtub with a pout, not taking his eyes off of Shinsuke. Shinsuke ignores him. </p><p>Osamu sighs. “Well, it bothers <em> me. </em>I’d like to see your eyes sometime, y’know.” </p><p>Shinsuke goes stiff as he puts a bottle of vitamins into the cabinet. “Okay,” he says. “If you mess up, though-“</p><p>Osamu gives him a grin. “I won’t mess up,” he says. </p><p>Shinsuke frowns at him like he doesn’t believe him. </p><p>Fifteen minutes later, Shinsuke is sitting shirtless on a chair that Osamu dragged into the bathroom. He runs his hands through Shinsuke’s hair, the soft and silky strands effortlessly slipping through his fingers. </p><p>Osamu makes the first cut. Black and silver hair falls to the floor. </p><p>“Why is your hair like that, Shinsuke-san?” </p><p>Shinsuke hums. “Like what?” </p><p>“Your eyebrows and the tips of your hair are black while the roots are silver. I used to think that you dyed your hair but this entire time I’ve never seen your roots be any different color.” </p><p>“It’s from all the stress you and Atsumu caused me as teenagers,” he sniffles. </p><p>Osamu playfully smacks the back of his head before cutting more of his hair. “Do you dye your eyebrows?” </p><p>“No,” Shinsuke says. “It’s all natural. Granny says it’s because I was born as the gods’ favorite.” </p><p>Osamu can believe that. </p><p>“It suits you,” he says. He ruffles Shinsuke’s hair again, pleased with how it turned out. It no longer hangs to his lips; now, it brushes his eyebrows and the tips of his ears. </p><p>“Not bad,” Shinsuke says when he looks in the mirror. He turns to Osamu with a mischievous grin. “Your turn.” </p><p>Thirty minutes later, Osamu is running his hands through his hair. Shinsuke did a surprisingly fantastic job, leaving the top of Osamu’s hair shaggy with the sides cropped shorter. </p><p>“Thank you,” Osamu says. </p><p>Shinsuke shrugs and begins to sweep the bathroom floor. There’s hair stuck on his shoulders. </p><p>Osamu brushes it away, and then he leaves Shinsuke alone in the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>He calls Atsumu again. </p><p>“Did you ask him yet?” Atsumu asks. It seems like he always answers the phone with a question. </p><p>“No,” Osamu tells him. </p><p>Atsumu hangs up on him. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It’s raining. </p><p>Osamu can hear it dripping. The storm clouds outside make it so that the room is still dark when he wakes up instead of filling with light, and he checks his phone for the time. </p><p>It’s three A.M. He still has a few more hours to sleep. </p><p>He sighs contentedly and turns his body around so he’s face to face with Shinsuke. </p><p>Shinsuke, who murmurs something in his sleep and tucks his head under Osamu’s chin. His hair tickles Osamu’s jaw. </p><p>“Don’t get up yet,” Shinsuke mumbles into Osamu’s chest. “Stay here.” </p><p>Osamu laughs, feeling the vibrations of it in Shinsuke. “It’s three in the morning,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>“Okay. Your heart is beating really fast,” Shinsuke observes after a couple minutes. </p><p>“Yeah,” Osamu whispers. “Go back to sleep. It’s still too early to be up.” </p><p>Shinsuke hums and shoves a leg between Osamu’s. It’s surprising how clingy he is in bed. “I can’t,” he says. “The rain woke me.”</p><p>“Me, too,” Osamu tells him. </p><p>“Granny called yesterday,” Shinsuke says. “Told me my room is blue now.” </p><p>Osamu chuckles. “Bet you miss it, huh?” </p><p>“...Yeah,” he says. “Sometimes. She was wondering when I was going to come back to her house.” </p><p>Osamu tenses up, not wanting to hear the answer to that himself. “...Oh,” he says. <em> You could stay </em> , he wants to add. <em> I want you to stay.  </em></p><p>“I told her that I didn’t know,” Shinsuke says around a yawn. His breath is hot on Osamu’s skin. “This place is starting to feel more like home, anyway.” </p><p>Osamu’s heart swells. He wants to kiss Shinsuke. The urge to kiss somebody has never been so overwhelming before. </p><p>He’s not Atsumu, though, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits up and looks down at Kita who is giving him the softest look anyone has ever given him. </p><p>“Shinsuke,” Osamu says, and his own voice makes him cringe with how breathy it is. “Why did Atsumu break up with you?” </p><p>Shinsuke’s eyes go wide, his smile dropping. Immediately, Osamu wants to smack himself and then possibly jump off the building. Why did he think listening to Atsumu was a good idea? Listening to Atsumu was <em> never </em>a good idea. </p><p>“Did Atsumu tell you to ask me that?” </p><p>Osamu sighs in relief and nods. At least Shinsuke won’t think that Osamu decided to ruin things between them by his own volition. “He did.” </p><p>Shinsuke sits up with Osamu, his lips twitching. His eyes are shining, and Osamu can't tell if the expression he has is something unbelievably happy or something sad. </p><p>Osamu gives him time to talk, the sound of the rain being the only thing filling their dark room. </p><p>Shinsuke finally breaks into a full on toothy grin and covers his face with his hands, and it’s not the reaction Osamu was expecting at all. </p><p>“Shinsuke-san?” he says, hesitantly reaching for Shinsuke’s wrists. </p><p>“When Atsumu broke up with me,” Shinsuke says, lowering his hands. “There were no hard feelings, mostly because at that point there were no feelings between us. That’s why we could still be friends afterwards.” </p><p>“...Okay.” </p><p>“Atsumu told me that he didn’t want to keep me in a relationship with him when he wasn’t the one I wanted,” Shinsuke continues. “And then he said that he wasn’t mad at me for being in love with his brother.” </p><p>“...I beg your fuckin’ pardon?” Osamu squeaks, and he slaps a hand over his heart to make sure it stays in his chest. </p><p>Shinsuke is still smiling, and Osamu feels so dizzy that he might fall over if he tries to move. “He told me that he would tell you to ask me why he broke up with me the day you told him you were in love with me.” </p><p>“Oh, motherfucker,” Osamu says. It’s unbelievable that Atsumu predicted this would happen and that it all went according to how he set it up, like dominoes. </p><p>It’s unbelievable that Atsumu, selfish, greedy Atsumu, did all that for him. </p><p>“Shinsuke,” Osamu says, “what if I told you that I want to kiss you?” </p><p>Shinsuke’s eyes dilate the tiniest amount. “Then I’d say do it.” </p><p>“Shinsuke,” Osamu says, leaning closer to him. He can feel Shinsuke’s breath on his lips. “I want to kiss you.” </p><p>Shinsuke’s eyes are fixed firmly on Osamu’s lips. “Do it.” </p><p>And Osamu does. He pushes Shinsuke back onto the bed, sitting on his hips as he kisses every spot of his body that he’s been wanting to taste for so long. </p><p>Shinsuke gasps and moans in whispers, and Osamu dedicates the rest of the night to finding out just how far he can push Kita Shinsuke. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Hours later, Osamu stares out of the window as the morning comes. </p><p>It’s still raining. </p><p>Shinsuke comes and stands behind him, resting his chin on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around Osamu’s waist. They’re both naked except for their boxers, and Shinsuke’s sweaty skin sticks to Osamu’s. </p><p>“What are you thinking about?” </p><p>Osamu turns around and kisses Shinsuke, because he can do that now and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. </p><p>“I was thinking,” Osamu says, “that you don’t have to leave.” </p><p>Shinsuke frowns. Osamu smooths the little wrinkle between his eyebrows away. “What do you mean?” </p><p>“I mean that you could just bring the rest of your stuff over here,” Osamu says. “We’ve already been living together for almost four months now. It would be strange if I didn’t wake up next to you every morning and make you breakfast.” </p><p>Shinsuke smiles against Osamu’s lips. “I’d like that, if you’ll have me.” </p><p>Osamu doesn't know how he could have anyone or anything else, not when Kita Shinsuke is an option. </p><p>“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks. </p><p>Shinsuke gives him a coquettish grin. “I want you.”</p><p>Osamu raises an eyebrow at him, but he’s never asked Shinsuke to repeat himself before, and he’s not going to start now. </p><p>Breakfast goes by that morning uneaten and without a prayer, but Osamu already has the blessing of the gods. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>next up: sakuatsu quarantine except it’s full of horniness instead of yearning </p><p>anyway thank u fr reading hope u enjoyed it love u bye</p></blockquote></div></div>
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